


The baseball lover

by RedGlassesGirl



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Baseball, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGlassesGirl/pseuds/RedGlassesGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolfram wasn't interested in his king's favorite sport until one day he agrees to see a game. Thanks to that decision, he discovers the key to finally seducing him. Yuuram.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The baseball lover

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, I'm an author that writes only in spanish, but some of you may know me because my blog in tumblr about this series. This is one of my fanfics translated to english (orinal name: El amante del béisbol), I had a lot of help from Poppy who not only beta read my horrible english translation but also contributed with some original content in a few parts of the story. Thank you very much Poppy, this was a great help, I've wanted to share a fic in english since a long time but I don't have the skills to do it alone.

**The Baseball lover**

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"Do you want me to go to a game?"

"Well, yeah. Only if you want though…," Yuuri said, losing all the excitement he had just moments ago. "You're not really all that interested in baseball, right?"

In fact, no, he didn't feel any particular interest towards this 'bassball' that Yuuri seemed so passionate about.

"Now?" he asked to confirm, despite it being quite evident from the uniform that Yuuri was sporting. Gold lettering stuck out from underneath his black chest protector, and even if he couldn't see what it said fully, he knew it wrote Shinma Lions. (1)

"Umm…," Yuuri murmured, black eyes looking away. "It can be another day, it doesn't have to be now. You're probably busy, after all…"

The atmosphere was becoming awkward. Plus, it wasn't like he had anything better to do today. Deciding to give in to the other's request, Wolfram switched the weight of his body to his other leg and placed a hand on his hips, the other, holding the book Wolfram had been lazily skimming before Yuuri had found him.

"Okay."

The unexpected confirmation surprised Yuuri, gaze returning. When his face broke into one of his dazzling smiles, Wolfram felt more assured about pleasing him.

"In fact," he continued, "I'm free all day."

* * *

When they arrived at the field, Wolfram immediately noticed that there had been a number of improvements since the last time he visited. It was now covered in a manicured, green grass and a simple, but comfortable, wooden construction, with seats for the observers, had been built. The players, whom he recognized as some of the castle's soldiers, now had uniforms and nicer-looking equipment.

When he and Yuuri had parted ways after a group of the soldiers began to ask Yuuri questions regarding the upcoming match, Wolfram had caught a glimpse of Conrart over their shoulders. He was adorning one of same colored uniforms that the soldiers were wearing. Obviously, Wolfram thought, he'd be part of the team as well. He felt a pang of jealousy run through him. Not necessarily because of the small part of him also wished to play, but because the shirts they were wearing were a deep black. Contrasting nicely with the form-fitting, white pants they were tucked into, the royal color was something that only a few had permission, let alone the gall, to wear, even amongst the aristocracy. The helmets were also black, including the ones of the rival team, whose shirts were blood red. He supposed if you got to be a part of recreating the king's favorite Earth pastime, that silent rule was overlooked. At least it was something the soldiers could brag about to their friends and family back home.

He also discovered that he wasn't going to be the only spectator in the benches. Greta was sitting with Günter sharing some sort of snack.

"Daddy Wolf, here, here!" waved the girl, spotting him as he climbed up the stairs to join them.

Sitting down next to her, he graciously accepted the drink she offered him. It was orange juice with ice.

"I'm glad you came," she said excitedly, placing her hands over his thigh and with her feet swinging energetically off the bench. "I told Daddy Yuu that if he invited you, you wouldn't refuse. He thinks you hate his game."

Wolfram, a little taken aback by her unabashed announcement, fixed a lock of her hair putting it back into place.

"I don't hate it."

"I know, but he doesn't. So make sure to tell him, okay? And if you could come watch from time to time he would be even happier."

He smiled softly at her. His adopted daughter was always concerned for her two fathers' relationship. "I'll be sure to, then."

He then looked over at Günter, who was sitting to the other side of Greta, the man giving him, an almost uncharacteristic, friendly expression. The two of them normally did not get along when it came to matter's involving Yuuri, but perhaps he wanted to remain civil in front of the young lady between them. His hair was tied up neatly in a ponytail with only a few locks loose at the front.

"Do you want to try one?" he asked, handing him the unfamiliar food that he and Greta had been sharing earlier. Knowing Günter, he was pretty sure that it had to be a dish from Yuuri's home country.

"What is it?" he asked, inspecting it. It looked like a sort of cold meat in a bread roll.

"A 'Hoto-Dogu'", replied Greta, furrowing her brow as she tried to pronounce the foreign word.

"According to His Majesty, they are a traditional appetizer served at this sort of event and with the help of His Majesty's descriptions the chef was able to reproduce them. Apparently, one cannot host a baseball match without hot dogs," Günter proudly explained, being sure to stress the correct pronunciation of the name.

"D-dog?" Wolfram choked. He already had taken a whole bite. "Is it made of dog meat?"

"Oh, no, no. The meat is veal from a Five-Horn calf. I would never have us eat something made from a dog, even if it is what they eat in His Majesty's noble and fascinating home world."

"Ah…" Regardless, of the meat's origin, it tasted good.

Looking down the rows the seats to the field, the face, or rather, shiny bald head, of a familiar soldier was heading up towards them. He was carrying a box hanging from a leather strap around his neck. It was covered in holes and in each of them there laid different colored bottles, more bread rolls and a pan, of which only the lid of was visible. The box had Shinma Lions fancifully painted at the front.

"Oh, Your Excellency, I've never seen you around here before!" Dacascos exclaimed, finally reaching the group. "And I see you're trying the hot dog, but why are you eating it plain? Don't you have any sauce to add on top? That's unacceptable, Your Excellency, please choose one from here." He pointed to the bottles holding various colored sauces.

"Dacascos, can I have a hoto-dog too?" Greta chimed in. Opening the pan, steam rose from the boiling meat cooking inside and took a piece with a pair of thongs, placing it gently in a bread roll before pouring the red sauce she asked for on top of the meat.

"This is the last one, Princess," warned Günter, "otherwise you won't eat your dinner."

Nodding at her teacher, she was handed her freshly-made hot dog and took a large bite, appeased.

Wolfram had chosen a dark yellow sauce and continued to eat, now bringing his attention to how Yuuri was managing his team member's positions before giving the start signal.

He had always thought this was only a kid's game that Conrart used to kill time in the villages near the border with the orphans, but it was much more complex than he expected as he sat and observed. It had rules that he didn't fully yet understand, but each person seemed to know what to do and where to go. It also didn't just seem only involve hitting a ball with a wooden stick and catching it with a glove. There was a whole system of rounds that needed a great amount of people working together, more than he had assumed, to execute the game successfully to advance and get a point. Wolfram continued watching and soon became fully engrossed in the game. All the while, he was discovering sides of Yuuri he never knew the other had.

He was one of the two players up front wearing protective guards that went over their thighs, knees and chest and his helmet enveloped more of his head than the other players', a metal grating covering his face. It made sense when one saw how close the person who hit the ball was to Yuuri and the balls that were being thrown flew directly at him at high speed. He gave instructions from time to time as well, sometimes correcting issues that arose, but more regularly, by making discreet (and quite distracting, in Wolfram's opinion) signals near his crotch with the fingers of his ungloved hand to the person throwing the ball. It was evident he was the one who knew how to play the game best, but even when the rest looked lost occasionally, they all seemed well-trained. Plus, everyone looked like they were greatly enjoying themselves.

He saw one of the players of the rival team, who was standing on the third base begin to show signs of wanting to run to the one where their king was crouching. Wolfram recognized him as one of the soldiers from his own unit named Andru.  _I didn't know that he played here in his free time…_

When Andru finally sprinted off towards the home base the rest of the players passed the ball until it reached Yuuri who assumed his position to confront the player running at him. Andru lunged, feet first, skidding towards the base in an attempt to let his momentum propel him to his goal. At the same moment, Yuuri had charged over to him, arm holding the ball outstretched, colliding with the other in a tangled mess of bodies, dirt and dust.

"Out!" the other shielded teammate yelled.

Wolfram realized that this game was less childish and more intense than he had previously imagined.

Match over, he got closer to Yuuri, who was visibly sweating and covered from head to toe in dirt and dust. His once white pants were now stained orange on the left side.

"Wolf!" Yuuri called enthusiastically, leaving Conrart, who continued organizing the rest of the preparations to record the scores. "You stayed!"

"Why would I leave? Didn't you want me to see the full game?"

"It was only a practice match," he said modestly, "and you didn't have to feel it was mandatory to stay the entire time if you didn't want to, the innings are long—"

Just then, one of the soldiers came up and asked something to Yuuri who answered gruffly. The solider, seeming to just notice it was Wolfram to whom His Majesty was speaking to, visibly stiffened and promptly apologized for interrupting, retreating back towards his other teammates. They were left alone once again.

"So…did you like it?" asked the young king, scratching the back of his head, suddenly sheepish.

"I actually quite enjoyed it", Wolfram admitted. "Sincerely, I didn't think it would be that physical, I thought it was only a game of throwing and catching a ball."

He shifted his body to the side and saw that the sun would be disappearing into the horizon in less than an hour. In the excitement, time had quickly passed.

"I was surprised there were that many people involved too, and it can get so rough…"

"You did like it?!" asked again rhetorically, much more was going to put a hand on his arm, but stopped when he noticed that his palm was completely covered in dirt and grimaced. "I think I need a good bath."

Wolfram inspected him again from head to toe. Yuuri had the mitt tucked below his arm and helmet in his hand. And despite being covered in orange-colored dust, his black features and white smile were as radiant as ever and the uniform still looked handsome on him. The dirt hadn't overshadowed his beauty at all, in fact, it had enhanced it.

"It suits you."

"Eh?"

Wolfram looked to the side and scratched his chin trying to appear nonchalant as he peeked out of the corner of his eye at Yuuri's chest before moving up to his face. "That uniform, it suits you."

A brief pause. Neither of them knew what to say next. Strangely, Yuuri switched his expression from that of surprise to... flirtatiousness? Wolfram felt his face go warm, he wasn't expecting a reaction like that.

"It would suit you too."

Wolfram shoved his hands in his pockets.  _What's happening to me? Why do I feel so stupid? We're engaged and we're only chatting, after all!_  Amazed by his own coy tone, he lightly kicked the ground stirring a bit of the dusty soil before replying. "Are you inviting me to play on the team?"

"Do you want to?"

A quick response.

The atmosphere continued to delve further into uncharted territory and Yuuri was noticeably starting to become affected by it. He scratched at his cheek and then looked at his hand remembering it was dirty and rubbed it off his pant leg. Looking down, he then murmured something under his breath before recapturing Wolfram's gaze, expression now more serious.

"We're going to practice again next week and I want you to be able to play on the team by then. But you'll have to practice with me a little beforehand, since you'll need to understand the rules and other basic concepts first. I'll teach you everything you need to know."

Yuuri switched the things in his hands and turned around to head towards the castle. Wolfram followed in tow.

"First of all, let me explain a little about how baseball is played on Earth, because it was pretty obvious that you didn't even know that this was only a practice match…"

Despite the twinge of annoyance he felt at that comment, Wolfram listened in silence most of the walk home. Yuuri, unaware of the one-sidedness of the conversation, continued his passionate explanation of his beloved sport as they entered the castle grounds and well into the evening.

* * *

The clothes Wolfram was wearing were comfortable despite it being the middle of summer. The pants were made of a breathable fabric, ending around the middle of his calves and the sleeves of his white shirt were turned up and buttoned over his elbows. He could see Yuuri in the distance, afternoon sun reflecting off the back of his helmet **.**

Wolfram was on third base while Conrart stood on the pitcher's mound, the rest of the team standing at their assigned posts. It was a free practice, with only basic equipment and no uniforms.

With a foot over the base, Wolfram tried to advance a little. He clenched his fists, waiting the right instant to attempt to steal the remaining base and score a point. He felt it was more fun like this, much more interesting than waiting for a batter to make a suitable hit.

He waited, muscles tense, and when he finally felt the time was right, took off with Yuuri in the center of his vision. Yuuri immediately noticed his intent and turned to confidently face him head on. With only a few meters between them, the inertia of his sprint pushing him to forward at high speed, it was then that Wolfram noticed that Yuuri wasn't in his protective gear and that he didn't have an actual back-up plan. He didn't want to crash into him, but at this point he also wasn't sure he had another option. Remembering the end of first game he saw, Yuuri had earlier explained that skidding to the base was sometimes necessary to score a run, but he hesitated, realizing that the space between him and Yuuri's waiting figure had rapidly diminished. Leaving him no choice and acting on instinct, Wolfram slammed his heels to the ground raising up a cloud of dust, making sure that his left foot was securely on the leather base, before crashing into the body in front of him. Yuuri, eyes wide from surprise, fell backwards from the force of the impact.

Wolfram stretched out his hands in front of him as they hit the ground in an attempt to avoid crushing the boy beneath him, his left leg fully extended back towards the base. It was one of the strangest position he'd ever been in, but aside from his palms, he didn't feel any pain. Looking down at the dazed, but smiling face beneath him, he knew Yuuri wasn't hurt either.

"What was that?" asked Yuuri, his tone of voice was melodic, but also huskier than normal. His mitt-covered hand rested at a side of his head and grin similar to the one Wolfram had only witnessed a week prior.

Wolfram could only stare, unsure about what to do next. The last time he saw it, the conversation had somehow continued on naturally, but this situation was different. No one had been lying on top of the other in a rather provocative manner with all eyes trained on them, for one.

Remembering that he had been asked a question, Wolfram finally regained the capacity to speak. "S-stealing a run."

"Hu?"

His answer had killed the mood.

Returning their attention back to reality, they peered over behind them, dust finally having settled. Despite the collision, Wolfram had managed to keep his foot firmly planted on the leather base.

"I think this counts as a run" he stated proudly. It wasn't really how he had planned it, but with the ball having missed its mark, he was 'safe' as Yuuri called it.

"I think so too," agreed Yuuri, before signaling to the 'empire' behind them. "It's safe!"

Finally getting around to moving off the other boy, Wolfram couldn't stop thinking about the meaning of the looks Yuuri had been giving him. He lightly bit his lip, as the rest of team began to gather around the two in concern.

* * *

Three days later, Wolfram still hadn't been successful in ridding that image of Yuuri's face from his head. It had been so…suggestive, sensual even. He had even dreamt about it!

He had had similar dreams before, of course, but after what had happened a few days prior, his already very active imagination was busy creating a plethora of other situations that could've, theoretically, evolved from that if, for example, they had happened in their bed chamber instead. Fantasies aside, however, he still could not believe Yuuri— _his Yuuri_ —his naïve, inexperienced king who, more often than not, made a fool of himself when faced with anything romantic in nature, had acted so assuredly that it made it seem it was almost deliberate.

With that thought in mind, the door of the room opened and the very subject of his inner musings entered, infamous grin plastered on his face.

"Wolf, your uniform arrived! I met the tailor on the way here and I convinced him to let me take it to you myself."

Yuuri eagerly walked over to the place they had set aside as a changing area, folding the wooden screen after hanging the clothes he was holding over a chair.

"What are you waiting for? You should try it on."

"Now? But it's almost time for dinner."

"Just really quickly, I promise! I want to see how it looks on you."

Well, Wolfram supposed, not even he could deny a direct request from the king. Smile still on Yuuri's face, Wolfram let Yuuri push him behind the folding screen and began put on the white pants, a black stripe running on both sides, and matching black shirt which had the team name embroidered with golden thread across the front given to him. Having clasp on the belt, he felt that the uniform fitted him well, but he was sure that the tailor tomorrow would fix any minor ill-fitting details Wolfram couldn't immediately see.

He stepped outside the changing room and Yuuri immediately gave him a thorough once over, approval apparent when his smile widened significantly, if that was even possible.

"It fits you perfectly!"

Wolfram looked into the mirror, the image reflecting him adorning the color he wanted to so eagerly wear since the day of the match. The tight-fitting pants hugged the silhouette of his small, angular hips, and the shirt he had tucked into them and belt defined his back and shoulders. He had to admit he liked how it looked, it even gave the impression of him having broader shoulders than he really had. That delighted him since he had always dreamed of having the muscular build of his older brothers.

When he looked over his shoulder back at Yuuri he saw that that the teen was staring at him, his eyes slowly moving down before stopping somewhere around the middle of his body. What, did he have something on him?Wolfram paused before hurriedly turning in the mirror to check from multiple angles. There was nothing. He contorted his neck to look behind him and still, nothing. That only meant one thing.

Certainly, the pants accentuated his…lower back. In fact, he had even appreciatively noted that the uniforms did so for the all the players. He hadn't necessarily wanted to stare at the soldiers, but his wandering eyes betrayed him when they had landed on Yuuri.  _But now he's the one staring at me? Maybe he can't help it… Yes, maybe it's only because the uniform makes you do it!_ Having come to that conclusion, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of people staring at his rear just because the pants showcased the area like that. He was rapidly starting to dislike this uniform on himself.

"I think I'll ask to have it modified…"

"Why? It looks so good on you!"

Wolfram couldn't help blushing at that blunt admission, but Yuuri's expression was calm, his eyes still fixated on his figure.

"It's just that…I feel a little uncomfortable." He gave himself a mental slap. When he had he started being so bashful?

Regardless, he still felt a little reserved at the moment. He looked back the mirror, but was immediately distracted again when he glimpsed over his shoulder at Yuuri, whose gaze had again returned to where they previously were, leaving Wolfram no more doubts to what he was fixated on.

Tired of feeling like a fresh piece of meat on display, it was time to end this. Wolfram took in a breath, intending to give Yuuri a piece of his mind and turned around, but instantly felt his indignation dissipate and legs turn to mush when he saw Yuuri giving him  _that smile_ again.

"Hey, Wolf. Think fast."

Wolfram didn't even have time to think at all before Yuuri threw an object towards him. It was out of sheer luck that he managed to catch it, and Wolfram was grateful for his fast reflexes since Yuuri had aimed a little too low for his comfort. He looked down at the round object and found it was a baseball. Since when was Yuuri holding tha—

Just as suddenly, another, much larger, object threw itself against him, a pair of hands slapping themselves over his cheeks. He was going to yell out in surprise, but ended up sealing his lips shut when he felt something warm, and a little chapped, press over his mouth. The stitched-leather baseball he was holding fell to the floor with a thump, bouncing before rolling off to the other side of the room.

"You should really see your face right now."

Yuuri's breath over his lips and amused tone snapped Wolfram out of his stupor and looked at his unexpectedly bold, but not unwelcomed, fiancée, mouth ajar in utter astonishment. The young king's arms were circled around his shoulders, face smiling charmingly and a little red. Was this a dream? The tingling on his cheeks from earlier told him otherwise. After all, you're not supposed to feel physical pain in dreams, right?

Dream or not, Wolfram decided to go along with it. "Hmph. You should see yours."

This time he was ready for the next kiss. Yuuri was sloppy and his movements awkward, but his willingness made up for his, very obvious, inexperience. Not that Wolfram felt he should be judging the other's clumsiness too hard, as he had hit Yuuri in the ear in his haste to get his arms around him as quick as possible.

Thirty seconds to a millennia passed before Yuuri untangled his hands from Wolfram's hair and pulled his body just far away to create enough space to move them in favor to the small of Wolfram's back and under his shirt, being sure to not break their still-ongoing kiss.

Speaking of which, as much as Wolfram  _really_  did not want to stop, his treasonous lungs were beginning to protest and replace the butterflies that were still wildly fluttering about in his chest. When he shifted to signal his dire need for air however, Yuuri didn't immediately release him, instead pushing Wolfram closer to press against him one last time and languidly suck on his lower lip before finally letting go.

"Seriously, what's gotten into you?" Wolfram asked, in-between breathes. His voice sounding more akin to his eldest brother's than to its usual pitch.

"I-I like you."

Despite the underlying bashfulness he could hear in Yuuri's voice, the sincerity and plain straightforwardness of the confession brought back the wild fluttering in his chest, although instead of butterflies, it felt more like a swarm of rampaging bearbees had taken their place.

They shared another small series of pecks before Yuuri continued. "And seeing you in this thing," he explained, pulling on Wolfram's now rumpled shirt, "I just couldn't hold myself back."

Hearing that, Wolfram laughed from the bottom of his throat, voice still hoarse. "Do you have a fetish?"

"It looks really good on you, okay?!" the baseball lover defended himself, before resuming their earlier position, his arms tightly around Wolfram's waist, and bringing their foreheads together.

Yuuri's blush was now at fully covering his face, obviously embarrassed about having been called out, and Wolfram couldn't help but appreciate how nicely the color contrasted against his pretty black hair and eyes. Allowing himself to get lost in that dark gaze, Wolfram affectionately rubbed his nose over the one of his silly king's and moved his arms to wrap them around Yuuri's neck.

"If I had known…"

… _I would have worn this uniform a long time ago_.

But he didn't finish the statement. Actions spoke louder than words in some cases, after all, and Wolfram, knowing Yuuri was far from eloquent, was discovering that the so-called "rookie", who's mouth had now returned to their rightful place against his own, was talented in a lot of other ways.

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**The end.**

[1] Shinma Lions: Yuuri's favorite team in Japan are the Seibu Lions, so I decided to go with a similar name for his team in Shin Makoku.


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